


Rainwater

by EdilMayHampsen



Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: Fluff, Other, Technically also hurt/comfort, You know my MO, my boys dance in the rain, they be communicating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-14
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:22:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27564487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EdilMayHampsen/pseuds/EdilMayHampsen
Summary: Juno and Peter go out to dance
Relationships: Peter Nureyev/Juno Steel
Comments: 6
Kudos: 56





	Rainwater

**Author's Note:**

  * For [inter_ruption](https://archiveofourown.org/users/inter_ruption/gifts).



> Happy late birthday!!!!  
> I hope you like this gift fic (well you got a preview before I posted but the point still stands)  
> and anyone reading this who isn't idle, HIIII!!!! I appreciate your time & attention. Enjoy!

“I can’t believe we aren’t even stealing anything. What’s the point?” 

Peter eyes Juno from his peripheral vision, “ _ You’re  _ the detective. I ought to be the one complaining.”

“Ex-detective. I’m no pushover about pickpocketing,” Juno hands Peter his watch to emphasize the point, and Peter laughs while he clips it back to his wrist.

“You are getting quite good, but don’t make me put my guard up. We’re supposed to be sociable tonight. Have  _ fun _ , make a-”

“You know I don’t do good first impressions, so don’t ask.”

“I can make enough impressions for two, no worries. Though, it would be a shame if someone had looked over the heist details carefully and determined that this was a riskless party we could crash, and, hypothetically, convinced their captain to allow one to take a certain lady out to dance. Hm?” 

“You didn’t.”

“As far as anyone is concerned: No. I did not.”

“You’re insufferable.”

“And yet you suffer me everyday, why is that? Could it be-”

“Shut up, Nureyev.”

“Could it be that you l-”

“ _ Peter Middlename Nureyev _ .” 

“That you lo- That you La-”

“Yes I love you, dammit, you don’t have to be so smart about it.”

“It’s just nice to hear you say.” Peter whispers, his tone smug.

Juno leans to rest his head on Peter’s shoulder as they walk, finding comfort in the sway there. He barely opens his eye to survey the scene: Up-town is packed tight with townhouses and little indie bars. The streets are carefully swept clean by atomotons that say ‘excuse me’ when they get too close. (Peter kicks one curiously.) It bustles with singles, couples and throuples window shopping and otherwise going about their upper class lives. 

Juno’s long since learned to push back the bitterness of seeing others live comfortably. Most of them don’t know on what basis they thrive, which isn’t an excuse, but they  _ will _ know, eventually. Once the Aurinko’s are done, everyone will know the suffering of the outer rim, and no one will feel it. Not anymore.

Today, Juno lets himself ignore those thoughts. To focus on  _ fun _ . He’s no use to anyone if he burns himself out. 

So he turns to the prettiest thing in his view to savor it’s look against the skyline: Peter smiles to himself, sunlight creasing off his glossed cupid's bow, and his eyes look forward in soft resolution. Peter is always looking forward. Even when he looks at Juno, he gives that feeling of happy inevitability, as if Juno is and always was his only future. Peter is a beautiful man, that is fact. He makes Juno feel beautiful too. 

Peter grabs Juno’s hand, which Juno is by no means against, but it still catches him by surprise. 

“Run,” Peter says. And he jolts ahead before Juno has the chance to process, yanking his arm nearly out of it’s socket. Juno catches up in the next second.

Juno runs before he knows why. He trusts Peter. If Peter says danger, there’s danger, and as Juno tunes his ear to the world around him, he hears it. A low, menacing rubbing that climbs closer to them by the second.

“The hell is that?” He calls, “Bots? A ‘copter?”

Peter barks a laugh, “Juno, darling, we’re trying to outrun the rain.”

Juno tries to stop, but Peter tugs him forward again, “Scared of a little rain, Nureyev? Are you going to melt?”

“Quite literally. My makeup isn’t waterproof, I thought I might need to dramatic cry for our job today, and well-”

“Ah,” Juno breathes.

“We can make it to the pavilion if we run, it will be quite unfashionably early, but we’ll manage.

“Yeah.” Juno says. 

“Dear? Is something the matter?”

“You said we weren’t stealing anything.”

“We’re not.”

“So why would you-” Juno huffs, “Christ, I’m out of shape, why would you need to cry?”

“Juno-”

“ _ Peter _ .” 

Peter slows, but doesn’t stop, “I wasn’t  _ planning _ anything, per se, but there was an opportunity-”

“You lied to me.”

“I did not  _ lie _ , Juno.”

Juno locks his eye on the pavilion, and moves into a sprint, leaving Peter in his dust.

“Juno. Juno, darling!”

Juno only keeps running. Damn him. This was an  _ escape _ from all that work. A place to let go, a place to pretend to be someone- someone who doesn’t have to care so much, who doesn’t have to fear getting caught. Who doesn’t have to fear at all.    
  


Peter would throw that away for- for what? A bit of a thrill? 

Juno’s nearly there, to that arching gazebo where someone dressed as a butler fit for the 1800s on earth would bring him an umbrella and escort him inside, when he realizes Peter isn’t behind him. Juno turns.

Peter’s stopped running, and a while ago by the looks of it. He stands with his arms crossed, chin raised, staring Juno in the eye, His shoulders draw towards his ears when the touch of cold rain hits his back and combs through his hair, making his mascara streak down his face in obscene black lines. He shakes the water off of him- to no avail- and fixes Juno with that sunny grin of his. 

“Ugh- Nureyev!”   
  


“Yes, Juno, Dear?” Peter calls, entirely unable to keep the laugh out of his voice, “Would you give me this dance?”

“You looked like a kicked puppy. A kicked orphan puppy. One who’s cold.”

“Is that what you find attractive? Because-”

“Oh shut up, will you?” Peter falls silent while Juno looks over his shoulder at the pavilion. It’s dry, and they’ll take him inside where it’s warm. There will be plenty of beautiful people, laughing loud, and it will still be lonely as hell without Nureyev there.

“My lady-”

“I said shut up!” Juno bends to hike up his skirts, fighting the fabric with more drama then he probably needs to, before he stands. He doesn’t look at Peter, but rather at the curtain of approaching rain. He fixes it with a glare usually saved for the object on the other end of his blaster, and steps through.

Juno had meant to look regal, but he spits and sputters in an attempt to get the stuff out of his eye and mouth. Peter doesn’t seem to notice as he sweeps Juno into a hug, laughing through the wet kisses he plants on Juno’s cheeks.

“I’m sorry, dear, I really am. This was supposed to be about  _ us _ .”

“Yeah, well it still can be. It’s not like we’re going in there looking like this.”

“You’d  _ still _ be the star damsel in the room.”

“Yeah right,” Juno says, but he turns his face away at the flattery.

Peter steps back, and Juno takes the hand he offers, letting Peter pull their chest flush before they step back. He pulls Juno into a slow pin, and after a beat, Juno gets the memo.

Nobody stares as they dance there in the rain. People push past them on the street, moving into the party that’s the place to be tonight, but it doesn't matter. Juno doesn’t care to be seen next to the galaxy's most mysterious super thief, he hardly cares to be with him. 

He’d much rather be with  _ Peter Nureyev _ .

“Juno?” Peter whispers, holding Juno’s arm above them in a twirl, “You do know that, well, hm.”

“Spit it out, hun.”

“If there’s an issue you don’t have to run away from it. I’m  _ here _ . You can talk to me. Even about, well, me.”

Juno sighs, “Yeah, I know. It’s just easier sometimes.”

“Ease doesn’t make a happy man.”

Juno scoffs, “Since when were you the wise one?”

“Never, I’d say.”

“I’m not a man anyways.”

“ _ Yes _ , dear,”

Juno sticks his tongue out at him, and Peter laughs, pulling them into a sway, Juno’s head beneath his chin. Juno takes full advantage of his new, sexy umbrella.

“Would it help if I said I wanted to steal a gift for you?”

“Maybe.”

“It was a ring-”

“ _ What? _ ” 

“Not- well, not-not,” Peter sighs, “It didn’t have to mean anything. It was just expensive, and not overly flashy. I thought it would suit you. And if we wanted it to mean something it could mean, I don’t know-”

“Loyalty.”   
  
“It could mean you plan to stay, this time around.”

Juno hugs Peter tighter, “You could get me anything- hell- grab me one of those sweeper bots off the sidewalk and it’ll mean I’ll never leave you.” 

“Do you really want one?”

“I mean, Kinda? Beside the point, Nureyev.” 

“I know, I know...They would be so convenient.”

“They would, wouldn’t they? Until Rita gets her hands on them at least.”

Peter shudders. 

“We could still go in, if you’d like.” Juno offers, “I could use a little champagne.” 

“I think I’d rather have makeup wipe a warm blanket.”

“I have both those things in my room.”

Peter breaks the hug to fix Juno with yet another of his winning grins, “I think I love you.”

“Very poor choice on your part...I love you too.”

“I know.” 


End file.
